


Into the Woods

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Eventual Johnlock, Fawnlock, M/M, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Were John, teenlock ish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-05-30 10:53:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6420904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was believed by the townsfolk that an ancient and dark magic resided within the heart of the forest, for the plants there never seemed to die, the sunlight never seemed to filter through the leafy canopy, and it snowed noticeably less around the forest. And for those that where still awake deep into the night, inhuman screeches and blood curdling howls could be heard. So, John, being the good little boy that he was, never went into the forest. But our story isn't about little John, who listened to his mother. Our story is about brave John Watson, a teenager out searching for a killer, who ended up finding so much more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this work. It's my first time writing for the Sherlock fandom, so any feedback is welcomed!

  John Watson had been warned to, under no circumstances, ever go into the forest at night. Wandering sheep and curious hounds would stray too far to the edge of town and be lost within the vast mass of trees, too large for the area in which they lived, never to be seen again. On occasion, some poor soul would leave the local tavern, drunken and reeking of alcohol, nowhere to be seen the next day, and it was said through hushed whispers that the forest had gotten to them.

  
  It was believed by the townsfolk that an ancient and dark magic resided within the heart of the forest, for the plants there never seemed to die, the sunlight never seemed to filter through the leafy canopy, and it snowed noticeably less around the forest. And for those that where still awake deep into the night, inhuman screeches and blood curdling howls could be heard. So, John, being the good little boy that he was, never went into the forest. But our story isn't about little John, who listened to his mother. Our story is about brave John Watson, a teenager out searching for a killer, who ended up finding so much more.

 

* * *

 

  John woke to his sister, Harriet, shaking him furiously.  
"John! John wake up! There's something out there!" she exclaimed, her voice urgent and her eyes wide with fear. John heard the horses outside neighing loudly and stomping their hooves.

  
  John flung the sheets off of his bed and hurriedly put his boots on, grabbing his shotgun as he raced out the door and into the night, not even bothering to get a lantern so that he could see. He ran to the barn to see if the intruder was still there. There, he attempted to calm the spooked horses down, gaining little success with nothing but the full moon's for him to use, as Mike Stamford and Anderson ran up to him with lanterns and guns.

  
  "Harry told us there was a creature out here?" Mike said, his cheeks flushed red from running to help. He looking his friend over quickly to check that he was okay.

  
  "Did ya shoot it?" Anderson asked absently, rubbing his tired eyes with the back of his hand.

  
  "No, I didn't see it. Hey, Mike, hand me that lantern will you? It might have left some tracks." John said, already crouching to the ground to inspect it. Mike obliged and handed him the lantern. In the dirt was a fresh set of tracks belonging to what looked to be an abnormally large wolf. John and Mike shared a look before slowly following the trail, lantern held low to the ground.

  
  "Hey, uh, guys..." Anderson said in a squeaky voice.

  
  "Not now Anderson, we're busy." John said, absently waving his hand at the younger boy.

  
  "But John..."

  
  "Anderson, I swear if you don't quit your whining I'm gonna..." John's sentence trailed off as he neared the end of the tracks. Mike and John looked up to where Anderson's gaze was already resting.

  
  Behind a stack of old wooden crates was a pair of glowing yellow eyes. John, Mike and Anderson where frozen in fear.

  
  "Shit" Mike said quietly, before the yellow eyed beast leaped out from the darkness and into the light.


	2. Chapter 2

  Anderson screamed and John thought he saw his life flash before his eyes as the large beast, now visible being within the proximity of the light of the lantern, leaped at the three.

  
  The beast, upon first glance, looked to be just an oversize wolf. But as it came closer to the boys, John couldn't help but think something was off. For starters, the eyes seemed too human for comfort. The beast's build was also unnatural, it's front legs looked to be longer and skinnier than that of any normal canine, and the claws. On the end of each paw were four digits, buy each was stretched farther apart and longer than what was to be considered normal, one might go as far as to even say that they looked like fingers. An at the end of each 'finger' protruded out a long black claw that glinted in the light, long and sharp enough to rip you open in a single swipe. All this, John observed, in the moments he had frozen in fear as the beast came hurtling closer, long white fangs and all.There was a loud crack! throughout the barn and before John could register what had happened, the beast was thrown back and he was being dragged by the collar of his shirt by Mike.

  
  John realized as the three where running out of the barn that Mike must have shot his gun at the unearthly creature, stunning it for a moment so that they could get away. Of course no normal bullet would be able to stop the beast for good, but they sure could buy them some time. Anderson turned around to fire a shot at the beast, but he fumbled in the dark and was too slow. The beast was upon him in seconds, snapping furiously within inches of his face, only being prevented by the gun which Anderson held sideways now up against the beast's chest. Anderson cried out in fear.

  
  "Damn it, Anderson!" Mike said as he stopped running and turned around. Mike shot multiple times at the beast, diverting it's attention from Anderson to himself. The beast looked up from the human under his claws to the source of the bullets. It locked eyes with Mike, slowly stepping away from a whimpering Anderson, growling.

  
  "Mike, we gotta go. Mike, we gotta go now!" John yelled to his friend.

  
  "Yeah!" Mike responded, taking off again, the beast following close behind.

  
  So the two ran. They ran as fast as they could, not ricking the chance of looking back, and not taking the time to think about where they where running to. That's how they ended up in the forest.John had lost the lantern long ago and was now running through the dark forest blind, being smacked by tree branches or running into thorns with every other step he took. But he kept going.

  
  There was an awful cry that came from behind him, and John knew instantly that the beast had gotten to Mike. He had to use all of his willpower not to stop and rush to his friends aid, knowing that if he did, the beast would get him too. The beast let out a blood chilling howl. From behind, John could hear the loud panting of the beast and the thud of it's paws as it began the chase once more. He tried to speed up, but by now the adrenaline he'd been running on was almost gone, and he was starting to feel the ache in his legs and the scratches from the thorns he's run into. He was starting to slow down. John felt the hot, sticky breath of the beast behind him and he was pulled to the ground. A sharp pain went through his shoulder as the beast bit into it. He went limp. John knew there was no escape, no chance at being rescued, that the only reasonable thing to do now was give up, but a small part of him, the brave part of him, was telling him to fight. So he did.

  He tried wrestling out of the beasts grip, trying to ignore the sharp pain of it's claws tearing into his back. The beast was caught off guard by it's prey's sudden movement and stumbled to the side. Suddenly, the two where being pulled down by gravity. 

  John didn't have the strength to even let out as so much as a moan as he was rolling down the hill, bumping into stones and rolling over fallen branches. His vision began to blur and as he lay at the base of the hill, bleeding out, he saw a dark figure emerge from the trees.

  
  "Bollocks." he breathed out as darkness engulfed his sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please leave comments down below on anything you might wish to see in following chapters or any opinions you have on this work. Thank you :)


	3. Chapter 3

 

 John woke to the smell of smoke and the crackling of fire. He opened his eyes slowly. Before him was a large fire with a tall man sitting on a rotting log near it. John squinted in the dark, trying to place what was different about the man. He must have made some noise because the man looked over in his direction, noticed that he was awake, and began to stand.

  “Holy shit,” John breathed as the man stood on his feet. The man, as John had thought, wasn’t actually a man at all. Before him stood a creature that shouldn’t have been there, but it was.

  It was a Fawn, that’s the only thing it could have been, with its small antlers protruding from a mop of curled black hair, comically large deer ears, strange dark tribal patterns twisting around his arms and back, contrasting with pale porcelain like skin, and furry goat like legs that ended with large enough hooves to trample John at any given moment. It moved slowly towards John, as one might do with an injured animal. John, still trying to process what had happened, saw the fawn move, and he panicked.

  He shuffled backwards from the spot where he had been lying, tearing his clothes and scratching his skin on the spikey branches of a bush that he failed to realize was behind him. The fawn pulled him out of the bushes, much to John’s protest, and began treating his scratches with a strange leafy medicine, all the while mumbling something under his breath in another language that John didn’t understand. The fawn looked up at him when he was done dressing John’s scratches and stared him in the eyes. John was so transfixed by the fawn’s large blue-green eyes, that he didn’t hear someone shouting his name.

  “John! John!” came Anderson’s shrill cry. John looked behind him towards the noise and saw Anderson and his sister, Harry, standing on the edge of a large slope. Harry pointed to John, saying something to Anderson before running down the slope through the forest trees to get to her brother.

  “John! Oh, thank God you’re safe! We thought the beast had gotten to you. We’ve been searching for you for days,” she said quickly as she neared John, ”Are you okay?” she asked, searching him over for any injuries. ”You don’t seem to be hurt.”

  John looked down at his arms and saw that, to his shock, that most of the cuts he’d acquired not long ago were completely gone. He turned his head back to look at the fawn, but there was no sign of it. Nor was there any evidence of a fire. Even the fallen leaves seemed untouched except where John sat on the ground. John looked up at his sister, completely flabbergasted.

  “Come on,” she said, helping him up onto his feet. “You’ve had quite a shock. We need to get you to a doctor and warn the town.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” John said absently, shaking his head and prying his eyes away from where the fire used to be. He took a step forwards. As he did so, a sharp jolt of pain in his left shoulder sent him stumbling to the ground.

  “John!” Harry and Anderson both shouted as he fell.

 

 

 

  “Well Mr. Watson, you’ll most likely walk with a limp from now on, but consider yourself lucky. That bite was very deep, and you should have surely bled to death.” Said the doctor as John lay in his bed, a bandage tightly wound around his left shoulder and Harry at his side. The doctor gave Harry a few quick reminders on the care John needed until his wound had healed properly, before leaving with a curt nod to the two.

  “I didn’t know you had a tattoo” Harry said in a hushed voice once the front door closed with a **_slam!_** Assuring the two that the doctor had left.

  “What? I don’t have one!” John exclaimed. The majority of the town, including the Watson family, believed that tattoos where an insult to God, saying that one shouldn’t destroy the beautiful canvas of a body He had created. Personally, John had found it all a bit rubbish, but he had obeyed his parents rules.

  “Yes you do! It’s a big swirly wolf paw print, right on your back.” Harry said with a roll of her eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with it, John. You know I’ve got one too. Remember, Mum and Da made a big deal about it when I got drunk at the tavern and came home the next day with a _tiny_ little heart on my neck?”

  “I don’t have one!” he exclaimed.

  “For God’s sake John, look!” she sighed, grabbing a hand mirror from the table and holding it so that John could see his back when he sat up in bed. Sure enough, to John’s utmost surprise, there was a jet black wolf paw print created out of looping swirls, about the size of John’s hand. John had never gotten a tattoo, drunken or sober, and the whole idea was quiet frightening to him.

  “How…?”


End file.
